


betty (i don't know anything, but i know i miss you)

by ebi_pers



Category: High School Musical: The Musical: The Series (TV)
Genre: F/M, Pining, Ricky Bowen Needs A Hug (HSM: The Series)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:13:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25675657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ebi_pers/pseuds/ebi_pers
Summary: "It feels strange to be back, especially after saying her goodbyes and promising to write. Especially after Kourtney cried and wailed and lamented losing two months with her best friend. Especially after she’d put aside all thoughts of seeing her friends, her moms, her ex for the rest of the summer. And it especially feels strange coming home for the weekend with a new boyfriend in tow."EJ and Nini come home from camp for the weekend and EJ throws a party. Ricky shows up. Nini feels conflicted and all Ricky knows is that he misses her.
Relationships: E.J. Caswell/Nini Salazar-Roberts, Ricky Bowen/Nini Salazar-Roberts
Comments: 8
Kudos: 45





	betty (i don't know anything, but i know i miss you)

**Author's Note:**

> Taylor Swift's new album gave me all kinds of Rini vibes, so I did a thing. I'm still in the process of unpacking from my move, so I haven't had time to finish the next chapter of "Do You Hear The People Sing" yet. But I just had to write something, so I sat down and spit this out. Heavily influenced by the song "betty" but there's definitely references to other songs off the album.
> 
> This is meant to be in-universe and canon-friendly, set in the summer between Ricky and Nini's breakup and the first day of school. Basically, Nini comes home with EJ over a weekend break, EJ throws a party, and Ricky shows up to try to tell Nini how he feels but things don't go to plan.

It feels strange to be back, especially after saying her goodbyes and promising to write. Especially after Kourtney cried and wailed and lamented losing two months with her best friend. Especially after she’d put aside all thoughts of seeing her friends, her moms, her  _ ex _ for the rest of the summer. And it especially feels strange coming home for the weekend with a new boyfriend in tow. 

It was EJ’s idea to head back to Salt Lake City over their weekend break. He had a car and a desire to see his friends, and his eagerness to introduce her to all of them won her over. So she called her moms to tell her she’d be back for two-and-a-half days, threw some clothes in a duffel bag, and climbed in the passenger seat of his Grand Cherokee for the hour-and-a-half ride home. They blasted show tunes the entire way, belting out “Candy Store” and dueting to “You’re the One That I Want,” and rapping badly to “Guns and Ships.”

Nini Salazar-Roberts is not a party girl. She attended a house party or two sophomore year, mostly to humor Ricky, who wanted to put in an appearance. The pounding bass, dim lights, and claustrophobic sensation of sweaty, gyrating bodies pressing against her in all the wrong places was more than a little off-putting, and she begged to leave by the second hour. Sleepovers and wrap parties at Denny’s are more her speed, but somehow EJ convinces her. His parents are in Orem for the night at some gala and he hasn’t had a chance to host anything all summer. 

“C’mon, Neens,” he begs, turning blue-green puppy dog eyes on her in a way that makes her stomach do flips. She’d been powerless against that look when Ricky gave it to her, and she is utterly defenseless against it on EJ’s face - boyish and pleading despite his chiseled features. “It’ll just be a little thing with some people from school. We’ll hang out in the pool. It’ll be low-key. Invite Kourtney if you want.” 

So at eight that night, she lets Kourtney do her makeup and pick out her bathing suit, borrows Mama C’s Nissan, evades Mama D’s questions about where she’s going, and drives the two of them fifteen minutes to EJ’s house. 

She’s always known that the Caswells had money. It’s hardly a secret around East High’s halls considering the number of parties EJ’s thrown, the car he drives, the clothes he wears. And while Nini’s moms had to take a hard look at the budget before agreeing to let her go to drama camp, she’s fairly certain EJ didn’t have to twist his parents’ arms to convince them. Even knowing all of this, she’s unprepared for the sight of her boyfriend’s house, palatial in size and perched behind a gate at the top of a long, curving driveway at the end of a cul-de-sac. 

It’s a far cry from the dingy basement parties she and Ricky went to, where cheap disco balls strobed epileptic shades of red and green and the smell of cheap liquor barely covered up the mustiness. Here, doorless Jeeps and lifted pickups and fiery red sports cars line the street, and she can hear a speaker pumping out Post Malone while the sound of laughter and splashing water carries from somewhere in the backyard.

She can’t help but marvel a little at the magnificence of the mansion, and a feeling of pride flutters within her, too. The Caswells are the closest thing East High has to a dynasty. Her  _ boyfriend _ belongs to a dynasty. And out of all the girls (and he could have pretty much any of them, she’s sure, and probably most of the guys, too), he’s chosen her. At first, she’d thought it was a showmance or a summer fling or the convenience of having someone to make out with while they spent two and a half months together away from the rest of their social circles. Kourtney had been certain it was just a rebound, and Nini was prepared for it to come to an end in August. But standing at the foot of his driveway and knowing he’s eager for her to meet his friends changes things. It means that he wants to include her in his circle. It means he wants to keep this going into the school year. It’s like a teen rom-com come to life: the girl-next-door and the most popular boy in school together at last. 

“I thought you said this would be a small thing,” Kourtney says as they trundle up the long drive. 

Nini looks around. The driveway is already filled with cars and a few guests linger in the far corner against the brick wall that surrounds the grounds. “EJ said it was gonna be a small thing,” she murmurs. With the reputation that Caswell parties have around school, she wouldn’t be surprised if her boyfriend considers this small. 

EJ’s face lights up the minute she passes through the gate, and his expression makes her heart skip a beat. He looks at her with awe, eyes wide and mouth agape in a half-smile like he can’t believe she’s real. Ricky always looked at her intensely and earnestly, full of ardent desire and things unspoken but innately understood. EJ looks at her like she’s something to be worshipped, and she wishes she would stop comparing her current boyfriend to her ex because she can’t decide which expression makes her heart beat faster.

“Nini,” EJ exults, like all he’s been doing is waiting for her to arrive. His light blue swim trunks are soaked, his hair is wet and matted against his head, and drops of water cling to his chest, his arms, his abs. He strides over to her and plants a kiss to her lips in front of everyone. She tenses for a moment, heat rising from the base of her neck to her cheeks and up to her ears. Ricky never would have kissed her in front of so many people. He was never that bold. EJ smiles when he pulls back, his eyes full of warmth. “C’mon! I want you to meet the guys.” 

He grabs hold of her wrist and tugs her gently toward the pool deck. She takes one look back at Kourtney, who just shakes her head with a raised eyebrow. She’s certain she’ll hear all about it on the drive back, but for now she allows herself to be dragged toward a few members of the water polo team, standing around with open bottles of Seagram’s that EJ must have stolen from his dad’s liquor cabinet. She smiles and tries to commit each name to memory. Jason, Jackson, Ethan, Connor...or was it Cameron? 

She revels in the way EJ says “my girlfriend” while introducing her. She flushes when his hand comes to rest at the small of her back, his fingers ghosting against her skin through the thin fabric of her coverup. She beams when he regales his friends with how they met at drama camp and how she bagged the role of Marian the Librarian, and she’s surprised when, instead of making fun of him, his friends seem genuinely intrigued. She’s grateful, too, that he leaves out the details that earned raised eyebrows and squeals of scandalized delight from Kourtney - sneaking into his tent to make out, stolen kisses backstage. There’s something about EJ Caswell that encourages her to lose her inhibitions. He makes her feel reckless and dizzy and courageous and bold. 

But through it all, she’s unable to escape the nagging feeling that EJ’s showing her off like a trophy. _Look at Nini! Isn’t she so pretty and shiny and new?_ Ricky never paraded her around to all of his friends, probably because most of his friends were her friends, too. They, along with Big Red and Kourtney, had known each other since kindergarten. And yet, as she smiles and nods her way through conversation with EJ’s friends - conversation that is more _about_ her than involving her - she can’t help but wonder if it will always be this way with EJ.

* * *

There’s a party at EJ Caswell’s house. It doesn’t take long for word to reach Ricky. EJ’s parties tend to spread like wildfire, and they never require a formal invite because half the student body tends to show up. No guest is ever turned away, though he’s reasonably sure that no one actually keeps track of who was there. There would be too many names to remember. And there will probably be even more people in attendance tonight, considering it’s the first party he’s thrown all summer - and likely the last, too.

Ricky is surprised at first because last he heard, EJ was out of town. Probably at some water polo camp or summit for rich high school gods to bask in their own glory and one-up each other with stories of what businesses their parents own and what they got for their birthdays. But he’s back now, apparently, and a party is just what Ricky needs. That is, until he opens Instagram and sees a new story from Nini. It’s a Boomerang of her and Kourtney, sticking their tongues out playfully at the camera with EJ Caswell’s pool in full view behind them.

So Nini’s back in town, too. The sight of her sends a sharp pang of pain shooting through his chest, a combination of regret and longing and the ever-present knowledge that he messed up, that he misses her, and that no other girl could ever take her place. It’s odd, too, he thinks, because Nini hates parties. 

His phone trills, startling him. Big Red’s face - red-haired and wide-grinned - appears on the screen.  _ Big Red wants to FaceTime.  _ He accepts and the contact ID photo is replaced by his best friend, smiling broadly at him in real time. 

“Hey, dude!” Red greets. The sound of gleeful shouts and pop music punctuate the background. “You gotta come to EJ’s party. Everyone’s here! You know Zoey from second period? She was asking about you and between you and me,” he glances offscreen surreptitiously, “I think her friend Katie was making eyes at me.” 

“That’s great, Red,” Ricky tries to force some semblance of enthusiasm into his voice but fails. As much as he’s happy that his best friend is getting attention from girls, it’s a bit of a sore subject lately. Besides, Zoey’s been flirting with him since the moment news got out that he and Nini had broken up. Or gone on a break. He’s still fuzzy on where they stand. He hung out with her once, if only to take his mind off Nini, but the conversation was dull. Zoey couldn’t talk about music the way Nini could. She didn’t have Nini’s voice - a combination of Sara Bareilles and Regina Spektor and her own unique style that blew him away with every note. She couldn’t find a harmony with him instantaneously when he plucked tabs aimlessly on his guitar, and they had no shared history - no endless list of childhood memories to laugh and reminisce about. So he’d left their one hangout disheartened, and Zoey had left griping about how he clearly needed to get over Nini or at least stop talking about her to other girls. 

“No, it’s not great because you’re not here! And the only way Katie’s gonna talk to me is if Zoey is too busy talking to you. So get your ass over here, dude. You’re missing out! Besides, weren’t you  _ just  _ saying how you needed a distraction?” 

Ricky sighs and glances at the clock. 9:45 PM. Too early to go to bed, but too late to do much else. The house is oppressively silent. His mom’s unannounced business trips have become more frequent. She’s in Chicago right now. Or Springfield. He can never keep track. His dad is passed out downstairs with Family Feud playing on the TV. He eyes his guitar in one corner of his bedroom and his skateboard propped against the closet door. There are only so many chords he can play and so many ollies he can pull off of stairs before it gets old, and he’s spent most of July alternating between hanging out at the skatepark with Red and aimlessly pacing his bedroom for hours.

He wants to go. He told himself he was going to go up until he saw Nini’s Instagram story. Now all he can think about is what she’ll say if she sees him there. Will she be angry? Will she call him out in front of everyone? Will she run up to him and hug him and say she missed him too? Or will she look away and ignore that he even exists? He spent all summer envisioning what he would say to Nini the next time they ran into each other. He practiced countless apologies in the shower, rehearsing and polishing them until they sounded perfect and the shower water had run cold. He drafted dozens of texts in his notes and wrote entire verses of songs begging for her mercy and her love. Now, with the chance to patch things up, he’s paralyzed and every well-practiced apology flees from his brain.

“Nini, I know I messed up. I’m sorry. I love you, I swear I mean it. I meant to tell you. I should’ve told you. I’ve always loved you. I’ve loved you since we were five and you held my hand on the playground and asked me to help you pick flowers, even though they were really just dandelions. Can you please forgive me for being such a screwup? Because every second without you feels like I’ve forgotten how to breathe.” It sounded much better in the shower, and as true as it may be, a pool party isn’t exactly the right time and place to get on his knees and beg the only girl he’s ever loved to look past his flaws and give him a second chance. 

At the very least, he resolves to drive by and scope out the scene. EJ’s house is massive, he reasons, and he’ll easily be able to blend into the crowd that’s no doubt gathered by now. It’ll give him a chance to get a read on Nini. Perhaps they can find some secluded place - a dark corner by the fence or a spot in EJ’s basement or the front seat of his car - and he can lay bare all of the things he’s sorry for: his cowardice, all the pain and humiliation he caused her, his refusal to admit to her and to himself that he’s well and truly in love with her. And maybe, just maybe, she’ll take him back. Maybe time will unfreeze and he won’t feel so listless and he’ll remember how to breathe. Maybe they’ll kiss and forget this near-miss and he’ll finally believe that love is real and permanent.

And if she doesn’t seem like she’s in the mood to talk, or if the timing feels off, or if she’s already left, he can just climb back into his car and drive off unscathed. Like nothing ever happened. Nobody will even remember he was there.

“I’ll...I’ll be there in a few. Just need to get dressed,” he mumbles.

Big Red’s face lights up. “That’s the Ricky Bowen I know and love! See you soon.”

Ricky forces a half-smile that comes out more like a grimace and ends the call. He eases himself to a standing position and throws on a pair of jeans because he has no plans to swim tonight. He laces up his Vans, grabs his keys, and casts a cursory glance at his dad asleep on the couch on his way out the door. His old Volkswagen fires up on the first try, and he takes it as a sign that luck is on his side tonight. 

By the time he reaches EJ’s, the street is filled with cars. He drives past the house twice, but he can’t see anything over the wall and topiaries that border the property, so he parks two streets over and walks the rest of the way. He slips through the gate with a group of seniors he vaguely recognizes. No one seems to question why he’s here. In fact, no one seems to notice him at all. 

He finds Big Red hanging out with Kaden and Steffy at a table in the corner of the patio and drops into a seat beside his best friend. 

“Hey, you finally made it!” Red grins. 

Ricky makes a distracted noise of acknowledgment, scanning the party for any sign of Nini. He finally spots her sitting on the edge of the shallow end, dipping her feet and talking to Kourtney, who stands in the waist-deep water and occasionally tells off other partygoers for getting her hair wet. She’s oblivious to his staring: his partially open mouth and the wistful look on his face. It doesn’t take Big Red long to figure out who he’s staring at.

“Oh man,” the redhead murmurs. “Dude, I'm sorry. I didn’t know Nini was gonna be here or I…” 

“It’s okay,” Ricky says quietly. He doesn’t admit that her presence is the main reason he showed up in the first place. He doesn’t hear the rest of the conversation between his friends. He’s too busy trying to read Nini’s lips, trying to figure out if she’s noticed him, trying to figure out what she’ll do if he approaches her. But he can’t focus. 

All he sees is her long, dark hair hanging limply, weighted with pool water, and the gentle way she smiles at something Kourtney tells her. The party is loud, but even with the din of drunk high schoolers and the splash of cannonballs and an Ariana Grande song blasting through the speakers - more bass than music - he can still hear Nini’s laugh: high and airy. 

A thousand memories flash through his head. That day at Dave & Buster’s when they killed it on Guitar Hero. The delighted giggle she released when he plastered her locker in cheesy dollar-store heart decorations for Valentine’s Day. The way her face lit up when he won her a giant teddy bear at the carnival. The way her head fit perfectly against his shoulder when they watched the Captain America movies and she fell asleep halfway through Civil War. Last Easter, when his mom announced another sudden business trip, and Nini came over and hid eggs for him. The time they stayed up late baking cookies, and he’d spontaneously put Taylor Swift on his Spotify and asked her to dance. They circled his kitchen to “Everything Has Changed” and when the song was over and the cookies were done, they shared them and promised they’d always be in each other’s lives, and he allowed himself to believe it. 

And then he ruined it all. She told him she loved him, and even though every fiber of his being told him to say “I love you too. I love you more,” he froze and then he ran instead. He still remembers the disappointed, downward curve of her lips and the way she tucked the bottom one between her teeth the way she always did when she was timid or nervous or upset. He still remembers the way her eyes welled up, and the way she blinked the tears away rapidly even though she never had an issue crying in front of him before. He still remembers the way his voice trembled when he stammered his way through his request for a break, and that memory keeps him up most nights. 

If he could, he would tell Nini everything. He would tell her about the blowout fights his parents had for three nights in a row leading up to her confession. He would tell her about how his mom suddenly announced a work conference in Chicago the same day. He would tell her that his dad hasn’t slept in the same room as his mom in six months, and that he found mail from divorce attorneys in the kitchen garbage addressed to both of them. He would tell her how the wedding photos - the pictures of his mom and dad smiling, toasting to happy ever after with their champagne glasses and holding each other on a beach in Hawaii on their honeymoon - had silently disappeared from the walls one-by-one. He would beg her not to say she loved him because his parents used to say the same thing to each other once upon a time. And he would tell her that despite all of this, he loved her, too. Nothing had become more clear to him in the months since they’d split up, when he sat and ruminated in the shell-shocked silence of his house and remembered how full it - and he - felt every time Nini crossed the threshold. 

He casts one more glance at Nini, her head thrown back in laughter while Kourtney giggles along, then looks away and tries to summon the nerve to go up to her. He doesn’t see EJ sweep up behind her. He doesn’t see the way he wraps his arms around her, or the way she places her hands against him and sways side-to-side while he murmurs something in her ear. He doesn’t see the gentle kiss EJ presses to her cheek, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Like they’ve been doing it for ages. 

* * *

EJ saunters off to check on his guests. “The curse of being the host,” he says with a wink after asking Nini for the seventh time if she would like a drink. She turns him down again and nurses the red solo cup of Coke in her hand. She watches him go and giggles at the butterflies in her stomach. She’s acting like a lovesick pre-teen in the presence of her first crush, and the expression on Kourtney’s face - half-fond, half-exasperated - says she agrees. But even as she watches EJ go, she can’t help but take a cursory glance around the pool deck.

“Nini, you keep looking around. What are you looking for?” Kourtney asks. “You got a stalker or something I should know about?”

“No!” Nini says too quickly. “Just...checking the place out.” 

“Mmm-hmm,” Kourtney responds doubtfully.

She doesn’t know why she’s expecting Ricky to show up. Sure, he’s been known to enjoy a party or two, but he’s hardly a party animal. Maybe it’s the surreal feeling of being home unexpectedly, or the numerous familiar faces she hadn’t anticipated seeing until September, or the fact that there could easily be a hundred people here and she can’t keep track of them all. In any case, she doesn’t see Ricky anywhere. 

She’s not sure if she’s disappointed or relieved, and she’s not sure why she would want him to be here anyway. To torture him with the sight of her hanging off of EJ Caswell’s arm? No, she’s not a sadist, and her boyfriend isn’t some prize to show off. Perhaps it’s to see if he’s living his life, happy and free without her. Or perhaps she wants to confirm to herself that she doesn’t love him anymore. Or maybe it’s just to see him in the flesh: to take in his mop of curly hair and to see the little dimple that forms in his left cheek when he smiles, and to witness the way his brown eyes light up when he’s happy. Maybe it’s so that she can see him and know that despite the turmoil of his family, he’s surviving. Because even if Ricky Bowen doesn’t love her - even if the very idea of loving her made him balk and run - she’ll always care about him. 

How could she not care about the boy she’s loved in some way or another since they were five years old? How could she not think of the time he microwaved her Barbie just to see what would happen and laugh despite herself? How could she not smile at the memory of the two of them on the first day of kindergarten, when she wore her hair in pigtails with pink ribbons and he had a gap in his front teeth, still sucked his thumb, and somehow always managed to be covered in Cheetos crumbs? How can she not feel something for the boy who gave her her name, who taught her to ride a two-wheeler when they were eight, who dared her to ride Demon’s Destiny and ended up throwing up all over her Converse. The boy who made her dizzy with laughter. The boy who let her drive his car around empty parking lots, even though she didn’t have her permit yet. The boy who kissed her softly and sweetly, who praised every song she wrote on her ukulele - even the dumb ones about clouds or trees or the painted lady butterfly that landed on her arm that morning. The boy she never really outgrew, even now. How can she help the way she wants to cry when she thinks about the way Ricky’s lower lip quivered the first time he told her about his parents’ fighting? How can she help the way tears press at the backs of her eyes every time she remembers how much she misses him, even after he broke her heart?

The thought makes her feel dirty and she slips into the swimming pool in an attempt to wash it off. EJ Caswell is beautiful and perfect and he sweeps her off her feet the way she dreamed of ever since she was four. He’s the definition of Prince Charming, and she finally gets to be Cinderella. So why can’t she get her mind off Ricky Bowen. And why does she feel like she’s cheating on EJ? 

* * *

“Seriously, dude, just go up to her and say something,” Big Red says around a mouthful of Tostitos Scoops. Salsa dribbles down his chin. 

“Like what?” Ricky sighs dejectedly, swirling his cup of Coke and setting it down without taking a sip.

“Like, ‘Hey, Nini, how was camp?’” Red suggests. “Or, ‘Hey, Nini, I really missed you?’” 

“It’s not that simple,” he murmurs, shaking his head. But it could be. They used to talk about everything. Starting a conversation shouldn’t be this hard. He watches as Nini slides into the pool, slipping beneath the surface before popping up, spewing water and shaking her hair from her eyes. For a moment, he convinces himself that he’s actually going to do it. He’s going to walk right up to the edge of the pool and call her name, and when she looks at him, he’ll tell her what he’s been dying to say since the moment he fled her house that night. “I love you.” Hell, he’ll jump into the water fully-clothed - jeans and skate shoes and all - to prove it to her, and they’ll kiss in the middle of the pool like there aren’t dozens of their classmates watching. They’ll kiss like it’s the end of some teenage rom-com, where the protagonists triumph over every complication and realize they belong together after all. 

He’s lost sleep every night thinking of how their reunion would go. Sometimes, she takes him in her arms and she believes him, and she teases her fingers through his hair and all is forgiven. Sometimes she cries and accuses him of destroying her, of breaking her heart and clipping her wings. Sometimes she tells him to go fuck himself and shoves him away. He could end his sleepless nights right now. He could put himself out of his own misery and cease to be Schroedinger’s cat, caught amid an infinite number of equally-likely scenarios that see his heart broken and mended all at once. He could go up to her right now and have his answer, and for better or worse, he won’t have to keep wondering. 

And then Nini Salazar-Roberts makes eye contact with him for the first time in months. Her eyes - black from afar but the deepest, richest shade of brown up close - open and she blinks droplets of pool water from her eyelashes and she settles her gaze directly on him and it feels like the party freezes. The music fades in his ears until all he can hear is the dull throb of a persistent bassline. For a moment, it’s like she’s looking through him. It’s like he’s just another face among dozens here. But he catches the way her eyes widen and knows for certain that she’s seeing  _ him.  _ His mind goes blank. His head starts to swim and he stands up so quickly that little spots appear in his vision. 

“You okay?” Red asks, but his voice is far away and Nini’s eyes are still fixed on his. 

“I’m fine,” he replies automatically, but he doesn’t feel his own lips move when he says it and his voice sounds foreign to his own ears.

His feet carry him across the pavers and toward the fence, and before he knows it, he’s unlatched the gate and he’s running down EJ Caswell’s driveway, blowing past two sophomores making out against the garage. He doesn’t stop running until he reaches his car, and with shaking hands, he inserts the key into the lock and pries the door open before tumbling inside. He lets out a sound - half-sigh and half-sob.

He’s a coward twice-over. He fled Nini’s house the first time, tumbled down the stairs with his shoes untied and stumbled out into the warm evening before either of them had fully processed what had occurred. He’d gotten on his skateboard and propelled himself over the cracked sidewalks, as if he could possibly outrun his own feelings. And now, given the chance to correct his mistake, to tell Nini everything he’s been dying to say, he’s done it again. He takes a minute to compose himself, twists the key in the ignition, and lets the smell of gasoline that fills the cabin bring him back to reality. He puts the Beetle in gear and pulls away from the curb before he can rethink his decision. 

* * *

Nini hauls herself over the side of the pool wordlessly and stumbles toward the table where she left her bag. 

“Neens, what’s wrong?” Kourtney asks, hurrying after her. 

“Nothing,” she replies. 

“Really?” her best friend replies incredulously. “Because I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t freeze like that and then run like you saw a ghost over ‘nothing.’” 

“I-it’s nothing, Kourt,” Nini insists, draping her bag over her shoulder. “I just... Stomachache, that’s all. Do you want a ride home?” 

“What I want is an explanation. You’ve been acting funny since you got here and now you’re just gonna up and leave?” 

“Whoa, you’re leaving?” EJ asks, sweeping up behind them. “Everything alright?” His expression is puzzled, his brows furrowed and his eyes flashing with concern as he rests a warm, steady hand on her shoulder. 

Nini musters her best apologetic smile. “Yeah, I’m just really tired. And plus, I’m pretty sure my moms want me home by eleven.”

He nods understandingly. “Yeah. Alright,” he says. “If you’re tired, maybe I should drive you home. You could come get your car tomorrow.” 

“But it’s  _ your  _ party.” 

EJ scoffs and lets out a self-deprecating laugh as he glances around his own backyard a little ruefully. “You think they’d miss me if I disappeared for a little bit? They probably wouldn’t even know I was gone.” 

Nini sighs because EJ is so sweet and so chivalrous, but instead of butterflies in her stomach, she feels nauseated instead. “Really, EJ, I’ll be fine. Besides, I borrowed my mom’s car. She’s gonna need it tomorrow.”

“Okay,” her boyfriend sighs regretfully. “Just drive safe, okay? And text me when you get home?” 

Nini nods and forces a smile when he kisses her gently and thanks her for coming and tells her that the guys think she’s awesome. He agrees to come get her on Sunday for the drive back to camp. She turns to Kourtney after he walks away. 

“Go,” her best friend says. “I’ll get a ride with Natalie. But are you gonna tell me what’s really going on?” 

“Tomorrow,” she promises. 

“I’m counting on it,” Kourtney says, and watches her leave. 

Her tears spill over the minute she sinks into the driver’s seat and buckles her seatbelt. The streetlights meld into puddles of yellow and the windshield becomes blurry through a film of tears. She’s not certain if Ricky was really there, or if he was just a figment of her imagination coming back to haunt her at the worst possible time. One minute he was there, and the next he was gone. But one glance at him across the pool deck, staring at her with that same intense, earnest expression, his mouth hanging open and his eyes pleading, and she’d felt the worst sinking feeling in her chest. She likes EJ. A  _ lot _ . He’s everything she ever dreamed of and more. But whether Ricky was actually there or not, it only took a glimpse of him to confirm what she’s tried to deny to herself all summer. She still loves him. 

She says nothing, dries her eyes with the back of her hand, puts the car into gear, and hopes that the feeling will subside in time. 

**Author's Note:**

> So there you have it. I had the "folklore" album on repeat while unpacking boxes and I couldn't get this idea out of my head. I'd love to hear what you think! And I promise to work on the next update for DYHTPS when I have time. Hopefully I'll be able to push that one out soon.


End file.
